


A Star to Steer Her By

by saddle_tramp



Series: Sea Change [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-23 16:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13791576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddle_tramp/pseuds/saddle_tramp
Summary: Charles loves the sea like he loves breathing."I must down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky,And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking."~ 'Sea Fever' by John Masefield





	1. Chapter 1

~*~*~*~

 

Charles couldn't seem to sleep at all. He was keyed-up and half-hard despite the fact he'd already tried to relieve that particular itch twice, and he found himself wishing he could distract himself with a book. There _were_ books in his cabin shelved with the ship's records, but he had never learned to read much past anything that might be found on a ship's manifest. The frustration of trying to read one of the lengthy novels that Quinn and Rackham preferred would keep him _busy_ , yes, but soon he'd be annoyed instead of just bored.

Laying sprawled in his hammock with nothing to do but stare out the open window at the ocean and the rising moon was driving him quietly mad, though, so he decided to go get some fresh air. If he was doomed to be awake all night, he could at least be up where he could see the full horizon instead of just a tiny sliver of it. He rolled out of his hammock and reached for his leather breeches, making short work of pulling them up and belting them into place, then put on the narrower belt that held his sword and his new pistol.

The pistol's previous owner had killed one of the  _Ranger's_  crew while they were taking their last prize. Charles had shot the man who had owned it and then instantly tucked his old pistol into his belt to take up the new pistol, which was unlike any pistol he had seen with a curved hand guard from the butt of the pistol up to the bottom of the barrel. The guard had half a dozen short spikes along it that he thought were mostly decoration until he took a swing at a man with it a few moments later only to realize the spiked guard could cave in a skull with shocking ease.

A pistol was often useless in a boarding battle after being fired, but that particular pistol was a very effective weapon even spent. A few more experimental swings during that same battle had proven to Charles that the spiked handguard was capable of breaking bones or ripping out a throat with equal ease, and it would catch and turn a blade even better than the knife he usually fought with in his left hand. By the time the ship was theirs, he had fallen a little bit in love with the pistol and he was hoping he could find someone to make another.

Charles didn't bother with his boots or shirt before he headed for the door, slipping through it silently to find Samuel standing just a few paces away at the helm.

Charles walked over to stand next to Samuel and then had to stifle the urge to laugh. Samuel was asleep standing up, leaning against the wheel. When Charles felt he could be properly serious - he was Captain, after all, so it _was_ his job to scold the man - he reached out to hold the wheel steady and then tapped Samuel's shoulder with the other hand.

Samuel jerked away and grabbed at his sword as he blurted, "What the--?" His eyes went wide as he realized he'd been caught sleeping on watch. Even worse, he had been caught _by the Captain_. He flushed, obviously embarrassed as he said quickly, "'M so fuckin' sorry, Cap'n."

Charles snorted and his lips twitched into a slight smile despite his best intentions to scold Samuel. "Lucky for you, the moon's not far above the horizon yet, so I doubt we've found any trouble while you were _sleeping_."

Samuel flushed even redder as he looked towards the moon, then he looked relieved. "I just now dozed off, sir, I swear it on my soul. I was up in the crow's nest past moonrise. After we got past that last cluster of rocks we hit a current that turned us a few degrees, so I came down to correct course."

"If you're tired enough to sleep on your feet, I don't want you on watch," Charles said quietly, fighting to look stern even though he wanted to grin. He was sure Samuel really _had_ just dozed off, the man was very trustworthy, but he wasn't about to say so. He was too glad of the excuse to relieve Samuel. "I'll take over, I can't sleep anyway."

"But it's _my watch_ , sir," Samuel protested, frowning.

"No, it's _Fritz_ 's watch," Charles pointed out. " _He_ slept the afternoon away, but you've been up since before dawn." Samuel was obviously surprised he knew that and Charles gave him a wry little smile, reaching out to grab Samuel's shoulder and start him moving towards the bow. "Go sack out a few hours. I want you rested when we make port. Quinn will be counting on you to help him an' Rackham organize the cargo after it's hauled to shore." Samuel was one of the few on the crew who could read.

Samuel reluctantly began walking away. "Yes, Cap'n. Thank you, sir."

"Don't mention it," Charles replied, letting himself smile a bit wider as he watched Samuel walk towards the forecastle for a moment before he looked up to check the stars. They were fairly well on course still, as he had expected, so he unwound the short rope attached to the wheel and then rewrapped it around the spoke he wanted to stay upright and hooked the loop plaited into the end over a spike driven into the top of the helm to hold the wheel fast.

Charles looked towards Samuel again then as he gathered his hair, deftly pulling two narrow braids to the outside to wrap around and tie his hair securely so it wouldn't be in his face. He had over a dozen of the braids hidden amongst the hair he left loose, most so old they looked and felt more like string than braids.  He liked his hair long but hated it blowing in his face, and the braids saved him the hassle of ever needing to carry anything to tie it back with.

Samuel finally disappeared down the stairs to the crew's quarters and then Charles moved towards the port stairs, climbing up to the quarterdeck and then jumping lightly up onto the rail to scale the rigging. The lack of boots might have bothered some, but Charles had spent more of his life barefoot than shod and his feet were tough enough he barely noticed the rough ropes as he climbed.

A few moments later he was swinging up onto the topsail yardarm of the mizzen mast. He got settled securely with his legs hooked around the yard and the furled mizzen topsail under him as he let his gaze roam over the ocean, relaxed and comfortable. The constant sway of the mast didn't bother him at all, his body moving seamlessly with the ship as he methodically scanned the horizon, and he soon felt more relaxed than he had in days.

Nassau would appear on the horizon ahead well before dawn, setting them up perfectly to ride the morning tide in, but at the moment the sea was an unbroken glimmer all the way around the _Ranger_ as if they were completely alone in the world. The ship was silent except for the creak of rigging and the sound of her hull cutting through the sea, and Charles smiled as he just closed his eyes and soaked it in for a moment, his head tipped back slightly as he faced into the wind.

Charles had often complained about taking the late watch aboard the _Revenge_ , but it had never been because he truly disliked it. He was sure to get any assignment he complained about when Robards was in charge of him, so he had made much of hating to be up all night and sleep the morning away just so he'd have the freedom to do so. He could almost believe he was alone with the ship and the sea in the moonlight on such nights and he loved it, especially on _his_ ship.

That thought still made him grin like a fool, opening his eyes and looking down to let his gaze roam over the _Ranger_. Nearly six months he'd been her Captain, and he loved her like no other ship he'd ever been on. She was smaller than the _Revenge_ , a good ten paces shorter of keel and seven narrower of beam, but she suited his tastes and his ambitions perfectly. The _Ranger_ was agile, able to tack across another ship's wake to cut their wind without losing her own, slicing through swells that could make a ship with a wider beam flounder and practically flying through the water when they needed her to.

In short, the _Ranger_ was perfect. 

Sure, they couldn't take on as much cargo as the _Revenge_ , but they didn't carry as much crew, either, so they were easily making up for it. That particular night the _Ranger_ was once more riding low in the water, heading home with a full hold with every bit of spare space below-decks packed with a cargo that was sure to see them all very well-paid. Charles didn't go for any score that didn't promise a good profit and the smaller crew meant they all got a bigger share than any of Teach's crews did, shared equally other than with Quinn and Charles.

The crew had finally voted to elect him as Captain just over a month ago after sacking a fat Dutch merchant, though he still sometimes had trouble believing it. They had repaid only two of his shares in the ship and voted not to repay the rest, leaving him with three to equal Quinn's three shares in the ship, but he didn't mind that. He'd gladly put most of his own shares of every prize towards repaying Flint until it was done, even though Flint would surely try to keep him from it if Charles bothered to tell him. That was why he didn't plan to.

Movement on the deck below caught Charles' eye then, and his eyebrows went up as he recognized Bonny. He shifted slightly to watch as the boy walked towards the helm, silent as a ghost even when he passed directly below. Charles was just starting to wonder why the boy was going to his cabin so late when Bonny surprised him by ducking into the shadows under the port side stairs that led up to the quarterdeck instead.

It wasn't the first time Charles had seen someone hide there, but it _was_ the first time he'd seen anyone hide there in the middle of the night. Some used the spot for hiding from their shipmates to avoid work, or for shade on hot days, but there was nothing to be done just then. Charles was keeping an eye on the sails and he had tied off the wheel, allowing the ship to essentially sail herself so he could keep his attention on the sea. It was a common practice in the darkest hours of night when they were in familiar waters, and the ship had made the run up to Nassau from the south so often the whole crew knew the stars and seas like an old friend.

Charles glanced at the moon and then back down at the deck, curious what Bonny was up to. The early crew that came on watch before dawn wasn't due for about two hours, and Charles was fairly certain Bonny wasn't on duty then anyway. Bonny was small but wiry and strong, and he usually had the day watch up in the crow's nest atop the mainmast because he had such a head for heights and sharp eyes that weren't fooled by the afternoon sun. Bonny could identify a speck on the horizon well before most even noticed there was something there, whether at noon or at sunset, but his night vision wasn't very good at all.

Charles lifted his gaze to scan the horizon again, careful not to hurry and miss something, then looked back down. Bonny was still completely out of sight beneath the stairs, and Charles was just beginning to wonder if the boy planned to sleep there when he heard a slight scrape of boot on wood.

Charles turned his head towards the sound, and he nearly laughed when he saw Rackham's familiar lanky figure walking briskly towards the starboard quarterdeck stairs. Rackham walked up onto the quarterdeck without pause as if he had no idea where Bonny was, moving to the rail above the helm to look over the deck of the ship before his eyes began to move upwards.

Charles let his chin fall towards his chest as if he were asleep even as he watched Rackham out of the corner of his eye, curious. There was plenty of light for Rackham to see who it was, and he wondered if Rackham would decide to trust he was asleep or maybe even trust Charles himself and just not hide whatever he was up to with Bonny. He knew it was possible. Quinn had said enough that Charles was very aware Rackham trusted him implicitly and considered him a good friend. The feeling was mutual.

Rackham stared upwards for what seemed like a long time, motionless and still, then looked down at the port side stairs. He hesitated and looked back up at Charles once more before he finally seemed to make a decision. He walked quickly down the port side stairs, moving next to them to disappear into the nook under the stairs where Bonny was hidden.

Charles was directly above them and couldn't see under the port stairs without climbing down to the deck, just as Rackham and Bonny couldn't see him without moving out from under them. He let his gaze roam over the water again as he considered the situation, not at all surprised when he saw nothing but moonlit water. He was soon relaxed once more, enjoying the quiet peace as he breathed the fresh salt air and looked towards the north and Nassau.

Rackham and Bonny weren't conspiring against him or the crew, Charles was sure. Rackham was a relative of Quinn's by marriage and had been with the _Ranger_ since Quinn brought him aboard to help with the bookkeeping when Rackham was just a boy, years before Rackham talked Quinn into taking on Bonny. Bonny had been on the crew over a year himself and was fanatically loyal to Rackham and to Quinn, who he held in the utmost respect.

Charles smiled at that thought, looking down again. He actually fit into that description rather well himself these days, he knew, just as Flint did. Quinn was an easy man to respect, for a fact, as fair and honest as any Charles had ever known, and Charles was grateful every day to have such a man for his Quartermaster. He never had to wonder what Quinn's motives were, he could simply trust and follow Quinn's lead on the rare occasion Quinn went against him and be sure it was for the best.

Charles noticed something on the deck below him near the helm then, distracting him from his thoughts as he stared at it for several moments before he realized it was Bonny's hat. His eyebrows rose a bit as one and one added up to a surprising sum and he began to wonder just exactly what Rackham and Bonny were doing beneath the stairs. He couldn't hear them or see anything, but he had never seen Bonny remove his hat for anything, the boy even wore it when he _swam_ , snugged down tight to his chin with the string.

Charles sat there wondering if they really were down there fucking for a few more moments before he decided that it was something he truly wanted to know. He got to his feet on the topsail yard and moved to the port rigging to make his way down quickly and quietly. Even in boots he could move _very_ quietly when he wanted to, barely making a sound, but barefoot he could be silent as a ghost.

Charles' lips twitched as he neared the level of the rail above the stairs. He could hear them, though they were quiet enough he was sure no one else on the ship could, and he sat down on the rail to wait for them to finish. He was quite sure they didn't find many chances for privacy and he didn't mind letting them enjoy themselves before he let them know they had been caught.

Charles pulled his small eating dagger to trim his nails while he waited, thinking again about the next time he saw Flint. He would want his nails quite short and smooth, for a fact. He intended to say hello by fucking Flint thoroughly, and then he was going to lie back and enjoy letting Flint to the same to him at least twice. It had been weeks since they saw each other, and they both looked forward to their limited time ashore together. Charles still couldn't quite believe he could be so lucky as to have a ship like the  _Ranger_ and the love of someone like Flint, but he was profoundly grateful for both.

Rackham and Bonny fell silent after only a little while, which made Charles smirk a bit. Charles had finished his nails and put the dagger away by the time Rackham stepped out from under the stairs and turned to meet Charles' gaze.

Rackham's eyes went wide as he let out a soft shocked noise, and Charles murmured very softly, "No need to panic, Jack."

There was a thump under the stairs then and Rackham flinched like he had been hit, moving further away from the stairs as Bonny muttered, "Y' just _had_ to have a fuck, didn't y', Jack?!"

Charles smirked, trying hard not to laugh, and Rackham turned beet red as he whispered, "Oh _do_ shut up."

"In my cabin, both of you," Charles murmured, still fighting to hold back mirth as he hopped down off the rail to walk quickly down the stairs.

"Yes, Captain," Rackham agreed quietly, looking very embarrassed.

Bonny moved out from under the stairs just as Charles reached the helm, one hand white-knuckled on the hilt of one of his short swords, and Charles stopped abruptly as his amusement faded away. Bonny had a positively terrified look on his face as he stared at the deck, and Charles felt surprisingly protective as he said much more gently, "There's no reason to fear, Bonny. I just want to talk."

"Yes, Cap'n," Bonny agreed quietly, still looking down.

Charles frowned slightly but continued walking, heading into his cabin with Rackham and Bonny right behind him. He walked to the desk and turned up the lamp, glad he'd left it lit, then turned around to sit on the edge of the desk as he folded his arms across his chest and watched Rackham and Bonny walk over to stand in front of him. Bonny hadn't stopped to grab his hat and was still staring at the deck, his expression almost completely hidden by shaggy hair that flared deep red in the lamplight, but what Charles could see of his face was pale as snow still and Rackham was beginning to look a bit worried.

"Calm down, both of you," Charles said quietly. "I'm not going to keelhaul you, for fuck's sake. I won't even _yell_. As far as _I'm_ concerned we don't have a problem here."

Rackham bit his lower lip, dragging it through his teeth, then said very quietly, "There are…  not many who would be so forgiving of the lie, sir."

"Lie?" Charles repeated, surprised. "I don't recall you telling me you two _aren't_ fucking."

"He means 'bout me," Bonny whispered, his head lifting just enough to finally meet Charles' gaze. He swallowed hard and then lifted one hand to brush back his hair, letting Charles get a good look at his whole face for the first time. He was even more delicate than Charles had thought, and Charles wondered fleetingly what he looked like when he smiled. He was pretty enough terrified that Charles thought the boy was likely right on the edge of beautiful when he was happy.

"I'm the last one to start pointing fingers about you likin' to be fucked, Bonny," Charles murmured finally with a wry little smile. He knew Rackham had heard the rumors, and he trusted them both enough to be truthful with them finally. After all, if they had a similar relationship they were working so hard to hide, they would surely understand him doing the same.

Bonny blinked, then his eyes widened as he said, "Oh."

"I… had thought that must be a lie," Rackham murmured, also a bit wide-eyed.

Charles smiled a bit wider. "There's always some truth in a rumor repeated that much, Jack. They're just all too scared shitless of him to say anything right out against his habits."

"Except Flint," Bonny murmured, eyes still wide. "He stood up t' Teach for you."

"Yes, he did," Charles agreed very softly, smiling more sincerely at the memory. "And will again, I'm sure. He's hoping for an excuse to shoot him. I expect he will one day."

Bonny suddenly blurted, "I got a cunt."

Rackham closed his eyes and lifted one hand, thumb and forefinger rubbing his eyes as let out a little unhappy noise.

Charles' eyes went wide in surprise. "You've got _what_?"

Bonny blushed very red, still looking scared but determined. "That's the lie Jack meant. 'M not a boy, he just said that t' get Quinn to take me on 'cause he didn't wanna leave me behind. I was s'posed to jump ship later, but then ever'one believed it an' I just sorta stayed. I haul my weight."

Charles looked away for a moment, then let out a little wry snort and met Bonny's gaze again. "And then some, I would say. You're a _demon_ in a fight. Is Bonny your real name?"

" _Anne_ Bonny," she whispered quietly, looking down again.

Charles reached out without thinking to touch Bonny's chin, intending to tilt it up so she would look at him, but at the brush of his fingertips she shied away, eyes wide and scared as she looked at him and took a step back out of reach. "Easy," Charles said, frowning at the way she looked down again. He had known Bonny hated to be touched, but the fear wasn't something she had let him see before. It made him realize she truly _was_ terrified of what he might do now that she had been caught. "I just wanted you to look at me." She swallowed hard and met his gaze again, head tilted down and to the side still, then Charles said gently but firmly, "Tonight doesn't change _anything_ between us, y' hear me? I still count you as one of the best friends I got. Your secret's safe with me."

Bonny stared into his eyes a long moment and then slowly seemed to relax a little as she nodded. "We won't talk 'bout you, either."

"I knew that or I wouldn't have told you," Charles pointed out.

"Does Quinn know?" Rackham asked very softly, stepping closer to Bonny as he reached out to rub her back. Charles looked at him and Rackham added very softly, "About you and Flint, I mean."

Charles shook his head, not at all surprised Rackham had made that connection. "Just Giselle and Joji."

Bonny shifted almost imperceptibly to lean into Rackham's touch so slightly Charles doubted anyone would even notice if they weren't looking for it, and he wondered what it was Rackham had saved her from. He had a feeling it had been pretty rough, whatever it was. He'd never even _heard_ of another girl who was such a stone cold killer as Bonny could be. She was worth any three of the rest of the crew in battle, quick and agile as a cat with her two short swords that always left bodies scattered in her wake.

"Not even Lady Barlow?" Rackham asked with a frown.

Charles let out a surprised little huff of a laugh. "Well of course _she_ knows." He grinned suddenly, remembering the last time he saw her. She had invited herself into his lap and he had laughed and picked her up to put her right back on her feet again as he told her to go bark up some other tree. Flint had chuckled at the way Miranda's eyes went narrow and hot then and he had firmly told her to play nice, so she had promptly moved to sit in his lap instead and torment him by playing with his hair. He _hated_ it when she petted him. "She's the one who spelled him not to want any other woman, remember?"

Bonny let out a very unladylike snort. "Bullshit."

Rackham gave her a quelling look, then looked back at Charles. "Is that where that rather laughable rumor came from? A fiction to hide your relationship?"

"That began spreading long before there was anything between Flint and I to hide," Charles corrected, amused. "I think it was Idelle started it. Where she heard it is anyone's guess, but she'll believe anything and she's always quick to spread gossip. She had even _his_ men half convinced Flint couldn't be hurt until he took that shot to the thigh a few months back."

"An' he don't care you're fuckin' around on him?" Bonny asked suddenly.

Charles' smile turned wry. "It's not like I have a choice. The rumors about me fucking town girls are all lies, Giselle starts those, but if I stopped showing up at Noonan's there'd be too many questions."

Bonny looked at Rackham, frowning, and Rackham said quietly, "We've been through this. No one cares that _I_ avoid whores." He snorted adding more firmly, "Which I have always done, I might add, so my feelings for you have changed nothing."

Bonny obviously still wasn't happy, though she looked more worried than annoyed. "I just don't want you hurt 'cuz o' me."

"I am not so helpless as you think," Rackham said more gently, "and my self-preservation instincts are quite strong, I assure you." He smiled at her, moving his hand from her shoulder to stroke her hair back from her face. "Just because _you_ could gut me in an instant does not mean that just _anyone_ could, my dear."

"I wouldn't," Bonny murmured, looking up into Rackham's eyes seriously. "Not ever."

"I know," Rackham agreed, still smiling at her as he added almost teasingly, "You don't scare _me_ at all."

Bonny stepped closer, blushing very red even as she reached up with both hands to pull Rackham down for a quick hard kiss, then turned away and hurried out of the cabin without a word.

Rackham looked at Charles then, giving him a slightly sheepish, wry little smile. "You'll have to excuse Bonny, Captain." He glanced towards the door and then back at Charles as he added very softly, "No one knows but you and I, sir. I do hope you will keep it that way."

"I won't betray her," Charles replied just as quietly. "I think Quinn _should_ know, but I'll not tell him." He paused and then added, "Though next time you two are looking for some privacy when I'm on watch, use my cabin, alright? Nobody's going to find you here."

Rackham's eyes widened. "You're letting us stay aboard?"

Charles snorted. "What part of 'this changes nothing' don't you understand, Jack?"

Rackham stared a few moments and then murmured, "Thank you, sir. The _Ranger_ is our home. We've dreaded the day she would be discovered and we'd have to leave."

"Well, it won't happen while _I'm_ Captain," Charles said firmly. "And when we're alone, my name's not _Captain_ or _sir_ , Jack."

Rackham smiled a little wider, looking a little surprised and even a bit shy, which surprised Charles as Rackham murmured, "Thank you, _Charles_."

Charles smiled. "Much better." He reached out and patted Rackham's shoulder as he walked past him towards the door. "I'm headed up again. There's at least an hour or two yet before the early watch comes on."

"I can take the watch," Rackham said quickly, following him. "You get some rest, I'm up for the day anyway. I don't mind."

"Nah, I can't sleep," Charles admitted quietly, pausing at the cabin door to smile crookedly at Rackham over his shoulder. "Too keyed-up about making port later."

"You like Nassau that much?" Rackham asked, returning the smile.

Charles smiled a little wider. "The _Walrus_ is due soon, if she's not there waitin' now."

Charles opened the door and stepped out on the deck again, pretending not to hear Rackham laugh softly behind him. He looked up as soon as he reached the helm, checking the stars and then grinning.

They were right on course for home.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Flint leaned back in his chair and then straightened out his legs and crossed his ankles under the table as he relaxed, idly watching Giselle's son, Jean.

Jean was a smart boy and well-liked by most who frequented the tavern. He was eight with skin much lighter than his mother's and a perpetual smile on his face that seldom faded at all while he worked, though he didn't talk much. He served plates and drinks when Giselle and Kara, the girl who worked for her in the evenings, were both busy, and he did well at it, but he didn't mind cleaning up after patrons and often had a rag in hand, wiping tables.

That particular morning Jean was clearing away several plates from a table near the front door where three men from Hornigold's crew had just finished their morning meal. Hornigold was up in the parlor with Eleanor, who had taken it over along with the room next to it that used to be Scott's office and storeroom. They had been there since before Flint left the kitchen after eating his own breakfast with Giselle and Joji, most of an hour earlier.

Richard Guthrie had left the island two weeks earlier for some reason Flint hadn't heard yet, and Eleanor was fighting hard to step into his shoes despite the fact she was still just seventeen. Hornigold and Eleanor had been spending a lot of time talking since her father left according to Giselle. Hornigold intended to take advantage of the girl's age and inexperience, but Giselle had told Flint that Scott was all smiles about it, so Flint was rather certain that Hornigold was going to be disappointed.

Hornigold called Eleanor called 'young miss' and seemed to think she was a featherhead, but Eleanor was much sharper than Horigold realized. Flint hadn't spoken to Eleanor often, and not at all since her father left, but the girl had never struck him as one who would be easily manipulated and he knew Giselle agreed. She was quite amused about the whole thing and had told him Eleanor was going to end up running _everything_ on the island if people weren't careful. The girl was very bright and very determined, and even at her young age already had a history of manipulating men to do her bidding.

Joji walked in the nearby back door and moved to sit next to Flint, smirking very slightly as he murmured so quietly even Flint could barely hear, "The _Ranger_ is on the way in."

Flint looked at Joji, surprised and pleased. "That's good news," he murmured, smiling. "Did the _Revenge_ leave on the morning tide as we expected?"

"No, and not likely to," Joji replied softly, reaching for Flint's mug of rum. "Teach is still ashore." He took a long drink of the rum and then set the mug back in front of Flint. "Word is that he's got his eye on a prize and wants to discuss it with Scott to determine what price he'll get if he returns here to sell it."

Flint snorted and muttered, "Cheap bastard."

"Worried," Joji corrected, making Flint look at him in surprise. Joji smirked slightly, adding, "Joshua just told me that two of Teach's ships limped in a little while ago under skeleton crews. Seems he sent them after a galleon and forgot to tell them it might be guarded. They took it and were just getting down to divvying up the cargo when a Man O' War came flying at them from behind a nearby island, firing bow guns all the way. They ended up losing the cargo and more than half of both crews, including all the officers of the _Colonial Dawn_ and the Captain and Quartermaster of the _Lyle_. What's left of the crews voted to cut all ties with Teach on their way back, and there's at least two more crews talking about doing the same if he doesn't bring them back a large enough profit on his next run."

"Good for them," Flint murmured, pleased. "That puts him down by, what, six ships in less than a year?"

"Seven," Joji corrected, still smirking. "More than half his fleet. And by my count he's got just three left if he loses both talking about leaving."

"Couldn't happen to a better Captain," Flint said with a sudden grin, reaching for his rum to take a drink and then putting the mug back down. He settled back in his chair again, looking at Joji. "What's the word on what the _Dawn_ and _Lyle_ plan to do next?"

Joji snorted slightly. "The _Dawn's_ already sent men ashore to ask Hornigold for help. They've got a lot of repairs to do and half a crew to replace, and everyone knows he's got the resources."

"And the _Lyle_?" Flint asked, not really surprised. Hornigold had made a deal with a timber camp on a nearby island to provide him with trimmed and planed boards, masts, and heavy timbers which Hornigold then sold for a sizeable profit, after using what he needed for his own two ships. Gates had made deals with the man more than once when the _Walrus_ needed repairs, and Flint had standing orders from Gates to stay on Hornigold's good side if he knew what was good for him.

"The Boatswain was the only officer left and the crew's voted him Captain," Joji replied. "Word is they're doing necessary repairs only, then heading for Port Royal. Gerritson has a note on the _Lyle_ , so they're planning to ask him for help. He's always got a line on crews needing a ship and they have barely enough left to sail."

Flint nodded. "Smart. He's got an interest in seeing them rebuild." He heard boots on the stairs up to the parlor then and turned his head to look, surprised.

Hornigold was walking down the stairs very quickly, looking pleased with himself as he settled his hat back onto his head. He saw Flint watching him and nodded to him with a smile, touching the brim of his hat, and Flint tipped his head respectfully. Hornigold ignored Joji and even his own crewmen completely, walking quickly past them out and out the front door as his men hurried to follow.

Flint let out a soft amused snort, looking at Joji. "He looked happy."

"Must have gotten what he wanted from her," Joji agreed, then stood, smirking at Flint. "Speaking of…" He turned away to walk towards the kitchen doorway.

Flint laughed and watched him go for a moment before a quiet noise on the stairs to the parlor caught his attention. He looked back towards it to see Eleanor walking down the stairs much more quietly than Hornigold had done. She looked pleased too, and he was surprised when she turned towards him as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs. He was silent as she approached, waiting for her to reach his table before he murmured, "Good morning, Miss Guthrie."

Eleanor smiled. "Morning, Captain. Might I join you?"

Flint said up straighter in his chair, surprised. "Of course." He gestured to the other chairs at the table, adding, "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you," Eleanor murmured, turning the chair next to his towards him slightly and then taking a seat and leaning towards him with her elbow on the table. "I have heard you're going to be in port here for several days yet, Captain. Is that true?"

"Yes, it is," Flint agreed, smiling. "Possibly as much as a week, depending on the weather among other things. Why do you ask?"

Eleanor bit her lower lip for a moment, looking down, then met his gaze again as she said softly, "Since my father left for Harbor Island to put more energy into his holdings there, I have been having… problems with a certain Captain that frequents Nassau. I have asked for and received Hornigold's support in banning him from Nassau in exchange for control of the fort." Flint's eyebrows went up in surprise at that because the Guthries had controlled the fort since long before his first visit to Nassau, but Eleanor didn't give him a chance to comment before she went on. "Captain Hornigold suggested that I should obtain the support of at least two other prominent Captains, and you were the first one he suggested. We are not closely acquainted, of course, but I have heard nothing but good things about you."

Flint was still a little surprised, though more amused by her attempt to flatter him. "I rather doubt that, but still I find myself curious who is it you are attempting to bar from making port here."

Eleanor hesitated slightly and then admitted, "Captain Teach. He seems to think that my father's absence should give _him_ control of the Guthrie holdings here, but that is _not_ the case. My father left me in charge with Mr. Scott's able aid and we do not need _or_ want Teach sticking his nose in."

Flint chuckled. "No, I'm sure you don't." He reached for his rum to finish off what was in his mug, then settled comfortably back into his chair again. "Who is the other that Captain Hornigold recommended you speak to, if I may ask?"

"Captain Vane," Eleanor said, looking a little uncertain. "I'm not sure he's the best choice myself, not with his history with Teach, but Hornigold said his support would be invaluable and might sway some of the independent captains to support our efforts."

Flint's lips twitched as he held back a laugh. "And Hornigold suggested approaching me first, correct?"

Eleanor blushed slightly. "Well, yes, but I would have done so anyway. We are not _friends_ as yet, but I do know you much better than I do Vane. Mr. Scott has had dealings with you often, and I know Giselle trusts you implicitly. She's told me in the past that I could rely on you to behave as an absolute gentleman if I ever found myself in your company, and there are few men on this island she would say such a thing about."

Flint chuckled softly. "Gentlemanly behavior is not much to base a _business_ relationship on, Miss Guthrie."

"Perhaps not, but I find it a good indicator of how honorable a man may be," Eleanor replied without hesitation. "There are few captains who make port here who are so obviously from a prominent family as you yourself are, Captain."

Flint laughed, green eyes sparkling with amusement as he said dryly, "I am no one important, I assure you. My mother was a serving girl in a tavern, and my father was a carpenter. One's manners seldom have anything to do with their pedigree, Miss Guthrie."

Eleanor blinked, looking surprised as she said quietly, "And yet you and the Lady Barlow are quite close. I _know_ her family is highly thought of, my father has done business with them."

"Be that as it may, _I_ am no one of import to English society," Flint repeated, not surprised that Miranda's family name had been recognized by Richard Guthrie. The Guthrie family's shipping concerns in the Colonies were very similar to the Barlow family's business based out of Bristol. The Guthries would likely know every detail of Miranda's background if they ever figured out which of the Barlow ladies she was. Miranda had a dozen female cousins, many of whom still went by the family name, so that alone was not enough to reveal her exile from London or what had prompted it. "If you were hoping to make a connection with Lord Barlow through myself or Miranda, you are quite out of luck. He would not react well to a message claiming to come from either of us."

"I was not," Eleanor said quickly, though she looked a little surprised still. "I was merely pointing out my reasons for choosing to speak with you first."

"Very good, then," Flint said, smiling. "I rather expect Hornigold recommended you get my support before approaching Vane because he thought I could help you persuade him."

"He _did_ mention Vane owes you some loyalty," Eleanor admitted.

"Vane takes orders from no one," Flint corrected. "He and I have worked together towards common goals in the past and surely will again, but he is his own man, just as I am." Eleanor looked disappointed at that and Flint's lips twitched into a smile as he added, "Though I do feel safe in saying he will support this, if I ask him to."

Eleanor brightened, looking hopeful. "Will you?"

"That depends entirely upon you, Miss Guthrie," Flint replied, still smiling. "What is in it for us?"

"Preferred prices when you deal with me, for one," Eleanor responded instantly. "And free use of your rooms here in the tavern without paying as you have in the past, as well as meals and rum."

"How preferred? Flint asked, curious.

"Ten percent higher price for your cargo than I offer to other captains," Eleanor said, "fifteen percent on highly sought after goods. And I'm prepared to sell rations to you at ten percent above my cost instead of the usual twenty."

"That sounds very fair," Flint said, hiding his surprise that she was offering them so much. "And what would you expect from us in return?"

"Your support against Teach," Eleanor replied. "I don't think it will come to fighting if he knows that you, Vane, and Hornigold all support my effort to ban him from port here, but if it does then I'm willing to give your crews a combat bonus of some kind, if you think that fair."

Flint chuckled slightly. "Miss Guthrie…" He chuckled again. " _Eleanor_ , have you discussed any of this with Mr. Scott?"

Eleanor blushed. "Yes, and he didn't approve of what I intended to offer you, but he didn't think I could convince Hornigold to support me, either."

"If you gave Horigold the fort, I surely _hope_ he intends to support you," Flint pointed out dryly, making her look a little surprised and worried. "Did you get his word on that?" Eleanor nodded, and then he smiled. "He's a contrary old bastard, but he _is_ a man of his word."

"He and I have just signed an agreement," Eleanor said quickly. "He wanted it all in writing."

Flint chuckled. "Of course he did, so he could hold your father responsible if you get yourself killed." Eleanor blinked, obviously surprised by that, and Flint pointed out, "You are aware that making such a stand against Teach will be dangerous, correct? He has quite a temper and it has only been growing worse recently."

"Since you got the _Ranger_ for Vane," Eleanor pointed out, nodding. "I know, he took that very personally. Word is he intends to see you dead."

"Yes, he _is_ holding a bit of a grudge," Flint agreed, amused at the reminder. Teach had not been happy with him before he knew that Charles belonged to Flint, but after he was told Teach positively _hated_ Flint. "One of these days I expect he and I will come to blows about it and one of us won't walk away. Backing you against him could well provoke it, actually." He grinned. "Which is a large part of why you have my support."

Eleanor laughed, surprised and pleased. "Just like that?"

Flint grinned a bit wider. "I've been waiting patiently for months for Teach to step up, but so far he's avoided me. This should end it finally, one way or the other. Either one of us will die or he'll leave."

"And Vane?" Eleanor asked.

"Vane will be ashore soon, if he's not already," Flint replied. "He'll make his way here soon afterwards, I'm sure. He will have seen the _Walrus_ is in port, and he and I have business to discuss."

Eleanor smiled, pleased. "Wonderful." She hesitated slightly, then asked, "Should I speak with him myself, or would it be better to let you handle it?"

"Either would work as well, I expect," Flint said. "I can't _guarantee_ he will agree, of course, but I think it likely, considering your offer." He smirked. "Vane and I have a similar policy on profits."

"Such as?" Eleanor asked, looking a little amused.

Flint grinned. "More profit is better, of course."

Eleanor giggled slightly and then asked, "What's he like, Captain? Vane?"

"He's a very shrewd young man," Flint replied quietly, smiling. "The sea is home to him, as familiar to him as your bedroom is to you, and he's a brilliant tactician. He'll be legend one day, I think."

"Like you are?" Eleanor asked, smiling at him. "The name Flint is known all the way to Philadelphia and London according to Hornigold. He said you'll be the next Blackbeard."

Flint snorted, amused. "Blackbeard's just one of Noonan's whores."

Eleanor blinked and then giggled. "Teach is known as Blackbeard."

"That explains a lot about his behavior," Flint said, pretending thoughtfulness.

Eleanor giggled.

Billy trotted into the tavern through the front door then, grinning as he said, "Captain! Quartermaster Gates asked me to let you know Captain Vane's ashore."

"Thank you, Billy," Flint replied, smiling warmly at him. Billy wasn't quite sixteen yet, though he had been reminding everyone for weeks that he would be soon, and he was at tall as Flint already, but he acted much younger most of the time. "How are the repairs going?"

"They're loading the new mizzenmast on board now, Captain," Billy replied quickly. "The plan is to secure the main yardarms and then begin lifting it into place to drop into the deck."

"Very good," Flint replied, pleased. "Hopefully they'll be able to get the rigging done tomorrow. Any word yet on the new sails?"

"Yes sir, Mrs. Tinderwaith said it'll be at least two more days," Billy replied quickly. "Her oldest cut his hand pretty bad, so she's doing all the stitching herself."

Flint frowned slightly, surprised. "Did the boy see a doctor?"

"I'm not sure, sir," Billy replied, "but I doubt it. She was pretty upset. She had to pass a job off to Rangstern's because she couldn't finish the work for us and a new mainsail for Hornigold's ship too."

"Take Dr. Howell to check on the boy," Flint said, "and while you're there, let Hazel -- Mrs. Tinderwaith -- know that no matter how long it takes her to finish, she'll be paid the full amount I promised her for getting the job done quickly."

Billy grinned, pleased. "Of course, Captain. If that will be all…?"

Flint smiled. "Unless you've more news?" Billy shook his head and then Flint waved him on. "Carry on, then."

"Yes sir!" Billy turned and hurried to the front door, breaking into a run once he was outside.

Flint chuckled slightly, reaching for his mug to get a drink only to realize he had finished it already.

Eleanor stood and reached for his mug, smiling warmly at him. "I'll get you a refill, Captain."

"Thank you," Flint replied, pleased. He watched her cross to the bar and reach under it for a bottle of rum, waiting until she had filled his mug before he added, "You might as well bring the bottle and a mug for yourself, Miss Guthrie."

"Eleanor, Captain, please," Eleanor said quickly, smiling at him as she got another mug, then reached for a third one and started towards him with the empty mugs in one hand with the bottle and his full mug in the other. "I'd like us to be friends, not merely business acquaintances."

"I'd like that too, Eleanor," Flint replied, pleased. He accepted his mug back when she offered it to him, adding, "Though I rather think you'd have more in common with Charles."

Eleanor sat back down next to him, looking at him curiously. "Charles?"

Flint chuckled. "Vane."

"Oh!" Eleanor said with a soft laugh. "I didn't even know his first name." She began filling one of the mugs, not looking at Flint as she added, "I've noticed him, of course. We've just never spoken."

Flint hid a grin behind his mug, taking a drink before he said teasingly, "I think most ladies notice him."

Eleanor blushed, but she looked amused as she admitted, "He _is_ rather striking." She took a sip of her rum and then added, "There aren't many so near my age here, especially not among the captains."

"He is the youngest captain to call Nassau home by quite a wide margin," Flint agreed, amused.

"All because of you, I hear," Eleanor pointed out, settling back in her chair with her rum and smiling at him. "Rumor has it you not only found him a ship in need of a Captain, but loaned him the money to secure it for himself."

Flint chuckled softly. "Well, rumor is half right, I suppose.  Quartermaster Quinn of the _Ranger_  is an old friend that came to me for help securing a particular prize after his captain died, and while we were talking he mentioned looking for a new one. I knew that Vane was looking for a ship of his own, so I passed his name on. Quinn didn't even know about the debt on the _Ranger_ yet then, and neither did I. That came up months later, and Quinn approached me because he knew I was doing well and might be able to help."

Eleanor stared at him, surprised. " _I_ heard that Vane gave Quinn the money for the debt, and he's the one who's been repaying you."

"Vane passed it on to Quinn for me, yes, and he's often the one to make their payments to me, but that's simply because I see him more often than I see Quinn," Flint explained, wondering who it was that had talked. There were only four people in the room the night Charles gave Quinn the money besides Flint and Charles, and Quinn wouldn't have spread any rumors. That left Slade, Quinn's Boatswain, or Rackham and Bonny, who had become Charles' best friends. Everyone knew Rackham was a terrible gossip but he seldom spread rumors about his own crew, and Bonny didn't talk to  _anyone_ , which made Flint think it must have been Slade. "Quinn is often busy with the crew, he _is_ their Quartermaster, after all, but Vane keeps a room here like I do so we run into each other fairly often."

Eleanor smiled, looking a bit bemused. "That does explain it. I must admit, I've wondered a bit how it is you and Vane came to be friends."

"We have more in common than you might think," Flint said, smiling back. He took a slow drink of his rum, then looked curiously at her, asking, "Speaking of things we wonder about, though, why did Richard leave so suddenly?"

Eleanor's smile faltered and she looked around the empty tavern, then looked down at her own mug. "I'm… not entirely sure. He didn't say _why_ , just announced he was leaving over dinner one night, and then when I woke the next morning he was already gone."

"Surely he told Scott?" Flint half-asked, surprised.

Eleanor shook her head. "No, Scott asked _me_. Father just packed his clothes and left."

"Huh." Flint was quiet for a few moments, thinking, then asked, "Are you sure he went to Harbor Island?"

Eleanor nodded. "Mr. Scott sent one of the men after we heard rumor he was there. Father sent back a letter saying that we were on our own and not to bother him."

Flint frowned. "Rather nice of him."

"I didn't think so," Eleanor said softly, making him look at her quickly.

Eleanor looked sad and a little confused, and Flint reached out to take one of her hands in his as he murmured, "I'm sure it was no fault of yours." Eleanor looked at him, turning her hand over in his to hold on with surprising strength as he added, "Your father has made many enemies over the years. I would surmise that he heard someone is looking for him, so he made himself scarce to avoid you being caught up in the crossfire."

Eleanor looked surprised and then a bit sheepish, giving his hand a squeeze as she asked, "Do you really think so?"

Flint smiled crookedly. "I've never been one for polite lies, my dear."

"I'm not either," Eleanor agreed, smiling slightly. "Father despaired of ever making me into a proper lady like Mother was."

"Being proper is rather overrated, I think," Flint said with a wider smile. "I much prefer a lady who speaks her mind, regardless of what anyone might think. I expect that's why Giselle and I get along so well."

Eleanor laughed softly. "Or Lady Barlow, for that matter. She's rather outspoken as well from what I've seen."

Flint grinned. "There's a reason she and I are no longer welcome in polite society. Most might assume it were all my doing, but I promise you she is at _least_ as much to blame as I, if not moreso."

Eleanor giggled. "Having spoken with her several times when we happened to eat here in the kitchen with Giselle at the same time, I can't claim to be surprised. She is a very… _opinionated_ woman."

Flint laughed. "To put it mildly." He heard approaching booted footsteps then and looked towards the sound even as Eleanor let go of his hand.

Charles stepped into the tavern a few moments later, looking pleased as he walked quickly towards them with Bonny at his heels. "I told you we'd make it back before tomorrow."

"Barely," Flint agreed, grinning even though he was a little surprised to see Bonny following Charles without Rackham. He'd never seen either of them without the other, usually close enough to touch. "I gather the trip went well?"

"It did," Charles replied, walking over to take the chair across from Flint and dropping into it in an easy sprawl. "We took that merchant you passed the schedule of right after she made her last pickup, lost two crewmen and seven injured, only one seriously. No damage at all to the _Ranger_."

"You did well," Flint said, pleased. "She was worth it?"

"Very," Charles said, smirking. "The _Ranger's_ hold was packed tight, not to mention every square inch of space below decks, and we still had to leave some of it behind." He laughed. "It's lucky we didn't hit any rough weather, we might have taken on water through the gun ports, we were riding so low."

"Never seen her loaded heavier," Bonny added, standing next to Charles' shoulder. He looked identical to the last time Flint had seen the boy, the same battered leather hat covering half his face so they could see only one blue eye as the boy looked at them. "Gonna take half the day to see her empty, even borrowin' a couple longboats from the _Walrus_."

Charles glanced at Bonny, murmuring, "Take a seat, Bonny. We'll be here a while, might as well get comfortable."

Bonny hesitated, then moved to the chair between Charles and Flint, dropping into it as he muttered, "Whatever you say, Cap'n."

"I thought I heard you!" Giselle said cheerfully, walking out of the kitchen as she wiped flour off of her hands on a towel. "Welcome home, Charles."

"Thank you, Giselle," Charles said easily. "Glad to be back."

Giselle walked right up to the table next to Charles, resting one hand on his back as she leaned to kiss his cheek, then she gave him a warm smile. "Are you hungry, _cher_? There's biscuits and jam, or I could cook you something."

"I will _never_ turn down your biscuits," Charles said, brightening as his smile widened into a pleased grin. "Please tell me you've some of the quince jam."

Giselle smiled wider. "I saved my last jar just for you."

Charles grinned up at Giselle, blue eyes sparkling. "I love you, too."

Giselle beamed and teased, "Just don't forget, Joji doesn't share. He would so hate to have to hurt you." Charles laughed as she looked at Bonny, asking, "And for you, Bonny?"

"Biscuits sounds good," Bonny replied softly, his face still mostly hidden by his hat as he glanced at her. "Thank y' ma'am."

"Glad to feed you anytime you'll let me, child," Giselle replied, smiling warmly at Bonny before she looked over at Eleanor. "Flint ate with me not long ago, but I haven't seen you take time for it yet today, Miss. Would you like me to make you something?"

"Just some tea," Eleanor said, smiling at Giselle. "I'm not really hungry."

"You'd best get that way soon, Miss," Giselle said, cheerful despite her words. "You'll not skip two meals while _I'm_ doing the cooking." She patted Charles' shoulder lightly and then turned away to walk quickly back towards the kitchen.

Charles watched her go for a moment and then looked back towards Flint as he said teasingly, "Gotta admit, it was a surprise to find _you_ with a new lady. Are you ever going to introduce us?"

Flint snorted, amused. "Eleanor Guthrie, this is Charles Vane, who I'm quite sure knows _exactly_ who you are despite his attempt to seem not to. He's made it his business to know all the lovely young ladies in Nassau."

"Shut up, you," Charles said with a smirk, leaning to offer his hand to Eleanor. "Don't mind him, he's forgotten it's _polite_ to wait for an introduction." Eleanor reached to take his hand with a soft laugh and Charles deftly caught it in such a way that he could draw her hand to his lips and kiss her knuckles, then give her a warm, wicked little smile. " _Very_ nice to meet you, finally."

Eleanor laughed softly, staring into his eyes as she murmured, "Rumor has it that we're already very well acquainted indeed."

"Rumor says many things about me," Charles admitted, his smile widening into a grin as she finally pulled her hand away. "Less than half of it's true."

"Only the _bad_ half," Flint added, smirking.

Charles grinned wider. "Usually." He leaned across the table to take Flint's mug, settling back into his chair as he took a deep drink of it.

"You see what I put up with?" Flint asked, looking at Eleanor with amusement. "An empty mug on the table, obviously not being used, and he steals from me instead."

"'Cause yours was full," Charles agreed, smirking at Flint. "What do I want with an _empty_ mug?"

Eleanor laughed and reached for the empty mug and the rum as she looked at Flint. "You must admit, his logic is sound."

"It often is," Flint agreed, trying not to laugh. "Even when he seems to be doing something _completely_ insane, he's usually got a good reason for it." Eleanor offered the mug she had just filled to Flint then and he accepted it, adding, "Thank you, my dear."

"You are quite welcome," Eleanor replied with a cheerful smile.

Charles held out his stolen mug to her with a grin. "Might I have a refill?"

Eleanor pretended to think about it for a moment and then agreed, "I suppose." She filled his mug again, then looked at Bonny as she asked, "Would you like me to get you a mug?"

"No need," Charles said easily before Bonny could speak, making Eleanor look at him in surprise. He grinned a bit wider as he offered his mug to Bonny, adding, "We don't mind sharing." He looked at Bonny. "Right, Bonny?"

Bonny nodded and accepted the mug without a word, taking a slow drink.

Charles looked back at Eleanor, pleased with himself, and Eleanor smiled at him as she said, "Not many captains who share so freely with their men. Is Bonny your cabin boy?"

Charles snorted, trying to keep his smile even though he didn't like that implication at all. "I'm not the type to keep a cabin boy. Bonny is as much a sailor as any on the _Ranger_ , and better than most, but at the moment he's my bodyguard."

"Bodyguard?" Eleanor repeated, laughing. "He's just a boy!"

Bonny gave Eleanor a hard look, the one blue eye that was visible under the brim of his hat gone cold and angry as he offered the half empty mug of rum back to Charles. "Never met the man can take me, one on one."

"Not likely to, either," Charles agreed, reaching to accept the mug. He smiled at Eleanor, but it was obviously not as sincere as before as he added, "Bonny may be just sixteen but I've seen him go up against _five_ men, all armed to the teeth, and kill them all without taking a scratch."

"Why did you need a bodyguard today?" Flint asked quietly, more serious than before.

Charles looked at him, smiling crookedly. "Eh, no reason, really, but you know Jack and Bonny. We weren't ashore five minutes before Jack heard Teach is pissed as hell over something. They wouldn't hear of me walkin' around on my own after that."

"Damn right," Bonny said firmly, giving Charles a dirty look. "We ain't lettin' you run into him with nobody to watch your back." He looked towards Flint, adding, "Jack's busy seein' to the cargo, so I came along."

"Glad he's got you watching out for him, Bonny," Flint said dryly. "He's surely not going to be careful unless _someone_ makes him."

"Hey!" Charles said with a laugh. "I resemble that remark."

"Yes, you most certainly do," Flint agreed, amused.

The back door opened nearby then and they looked towards it in surprise as Joji walked in, followed closely by Joshua and Dooley. Joshua and Dooley went to the bar to get themselves something to drink as Joji moved over to crouch between Flint and Bonny, not even looking at the others as he met Flint's gaze and murmured, "Captain, Hornigold's men are putting the word out that he's been given the fort and there's a line in the sand with you, him, and Miss Guthrie on one side of it and Teach on the other. Teach's on his way here now, not far behind us. He's walking, but we ran."

Flint snorted, looking over at Eleanor. "You didn't think to tell Hornigold to keep his mouth shut?"

"No, I didn't," Eleanor admitted, looking a bit worried. "I thought he was bright enough to do it without needing me to remind him."

"Obviously not," Flint said dryly, then looked back at Joji. "How many of the men are close?"

"Enough," Joji replied without hesitation. "Teach only has a few with him, and there's a dozen of ours here close, with nine more at Noonan's. Billy's heading to roust them out of there now."

"Why exactly is there a line in the sand?" Charles asked quietly, "and do I need to send Bonny for reinforcements?"

Flint looked at Charles. "Eleanor is going to exile Teach from port, and Hornigold and I are backing her up." He smiled crookedly. "I thought there'd be more time to ask if you wanted to play too."

Charles snorted. "Of course you did." He looked at Bonny, adding, "Go on, let them know what's going on."

"Fuck that," Bonny said sharply. "I'm not leavin' you." He looked at Joji, adding, " _You_ send someone to find Jack an' tell 'im what's going on."

"There's no time," Joji said quietly. "Teach won't be _that_ far behind us." He looked back at Flint, adding with a wry little smile, "You never do things by half, do you?"

"You know me," Flint replied with a grin.

Joji snorted, smiling as he stood. "Yes, I do." He started towards the bar, where Giselle was watching them with a slight frown, a basket of biscuits forgotten in her hands. "You need to get back into the kitchen, my love. They can eat later."

Giselle nodded and disappeared into the kitchen without a word as Joji walked around the bar to pour himself a mug of rum.

Charles looked at Flint and asked softly, "How long have you been planning this?"

Flint laughed, looking at Eleanor. "What, twenty minutes since you told me?"

"About that," Eleanor agreed, looking at Charles as she added, "I've been planning it for two weeks, though. I would be in a very bad position right now without Flint's support."

Charles laughed and looked back at Flint. "Rescuing the damsel in distress again, hmm?"

"It's a hobby," Flint pointed out, smirking. "One we share, in fact."

"Sometimes," Charles agreed, grinning as he stood and looked at Bonny. "Switch seats, I want to see the door."

Bonny stood but made no move to take the other seat, muttering, "Fuck that, I want my back t' the wall too."

Charles snickered, dropping into Bonny's chair. "Coward."

Bonny reached out and slapped Charles' head hard enough to rock it sideways, scowling. "Arse."

"No, that was definitely not my arse," Charles said with a laugh.

Flint snickered as Eleanor laughed and teased, "It's an easy enough mistake to make, I'd think."

"Hey!" Charles said, laughing. "Is that any way to treat someone you expect to back you up in a fight?"

Eleanor smirked. "I'm a horrible liar."

"Liar," Charles countered instantly.

"Told you I suck at it," Eleanor agreed, smirking back at him.

That was why the first thing Teach saw when he walked in the front door was Flint and Charles sitting side by side laughing while Eleanor smirked at them.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

  


Teach scowled, stalking across the tavern towards Flint, Vane, and the Guthrie girl, Eleanor.

Robards was at Teach's shoulder with two of his senior Captains, Gale and Fitch, following behind. Fitch was young for a Captain, not yet thirty, but he was a master of the sword and knew the West Indies like the back of his hand. Gale was the oldest of Teach's Captains, in his early fifties with long grey hair he wore pulled back neatly into a tail. Gale wasn't as good with the sword or in a hand-to-hand fight and avoided it when he could, but he was an excellent tactician and was a master at inspiring men and gaining their loyalty.

As Teach looked around the room, he found himself wishing he'd brought a few more men. Several of Flint's crew were scattered around, as well as one of Vane's, and he had no doubt that at least Flint had more men somewhere close by, most likely outside the back door. He hadn't noticed anyone he recognized on the way in the front, but he didn't know most of Flint's men on sight.

Teach stopped near Flint's table, scowling at Flint and Vane as if Eleanor wasn't even there as he asked sharply, "What the fuck are you two playing at this time?"

"Nice to see you too, Teach," Flint said dryly. He looked at Eleanor, adding, "You'll have to forgive his manners, Miss Guthrie. He was raised by sharks."

"That explains so much," Eleanor said, giving Teach a cold look. "You're not  _welcome_ here, Captain Teach. We've already spoken at length about that."

Teach looked at Eleanor for a moment and then snorted, dismissing her completely as he looked at Flint again. "I  _know_  you must be behind this, Flint. It's no coincidence she turned over control of the fort to your old friend Hornigold the day after youmade port, just in time for Vane to appear."

Flint laughed. "Teach, why is it that you so enjoy dismissing the concerns of those who have reason to want free of you only to blame their leaving on me? Just because I  _support_ an idea does not make it my own, I assure you." He snorted with amusement, adding, "And Hornigold and I have never been  _friends_ , merely acquaintances who sometimes have similar goals."

"Which would be?" Teach asked, fighting to keep control of his temper.

"Seeing Nassau free of you, at the moment," Flint replied without hesitation. He reached for his rum, smirking at Teach as he added, "Today, actually." He took a slow drink of rum, his gaze never leaving Teach's eyes.

"The sooner, the better," Charles added, waiting for Flint to lower the mug and then holding out his hand for it. Flint passed over the mug of rum without hesitation and Charles smirked at Teach as he added, "You'll want to cast off soon or you'll miss the next tide." He took a lazy sip of Flint's rum, also keeping his gaze on Teach.

They could not be much more blatant about their relationship without announcing it to the room, Teach was sure. Vane was rubbing his nose in it and he wouldn't stand for it. "I'm not leaving just because you  _said_  to," Teach scoffed. "I'm not afraid of either of you sodomites."

"Now if that ain't the pot callin' the kettle black, I dunno what is," Charles said dryly, not even trying to hide his surprise and amusement. "You really sure you want to head down that road right here and now? I warned you before you won't like what you find if you do."

"Might as well," Teach said with a snort. "You two haven't got the troops or the bollocks to  _make_ me do anything. This is all bluff and bullshit."

"We don't need  _troops_ ," Flint pointed out, trying not to laugh. "We've got  _the fort_. One word from me and Dooley will duck out the back to send a runner to the fort. Your ships will be at the bottom of the harbor before you can fight your way back to the shore, assuming you  _can_ fight past my crew, not to mention Charles' men and Miss Guthrie's." He smirked slightly. "Personally, I wouldn't put any money on you even leaving this room unless we  _let_  you."

Teach glanced towards the back door, scowling when he saw one of Flint's men leaning against the wall there, then he glared at Flint for a long moment, hating him for being right. He had been far too confident, storming up to the tavern and leaving most of his men behind on the beach or on the ship. He had just two men waiting out front, and neither of them was especially well-armed because he had grabbed them out of the crew packing up to set sail. Flint had that fanged African pet of his on the stairs behind him, and the Chinaman behind the bar, not to mention the men outside. He finally looked at Vane, trying to keep his bluff up as he said coldly, "An' you're sure you wanna  _die_ with him, boy?"

"At least he'll stand and fight with me, as equals," Charles replied. "That's more than you  _or_ your men ever did for me. If that means we die, then we'll take some of you with us."

"Starting with you, Teach," Flint added firmly. "Odds are not in your favor in Nassau any longer.  _You_ are the one who doesn't have the men to win this fight, you're just too proud to admit it, or too  _stupid_ to do the math." He snorted. "Let me help you with that, numbers have always been easy for me. Your  _Revenge_ crews only eighty or so men, and I do believe I heard you lost some last time out. Against you there is my crew--" He lifted his hands to touch the index finger of his left hand with the same finger on his right hand. "--of seventy-two men at current who are such seasoned fighters we have easily beaten a crew of a hundred men. " He touched the middle fingertip of the left hand. "Next we have Vane's crew of forty-seven, who just returned after defeating a crew of sixty without taking a single loss and then took on a crew of over seventy and lost only  _two_  men." He touched the tip of his left ring finger. "Hornigold's crews, which total close to two hundred men if you count the men ashore who work for him in some way, which you would be smart to do since _you_ are ashore and they, like my crew, are between you and  _your_ crew." He smirked slightly as he touched the tip of the smallest finger on his left hand. "And last but certainly not least, there are Miss Guthrie's men." He looked at Eleanor. "How many would you say, my dear?"

"Forty-seven fighters armed with sword, rifle, and pistol including myself, another twenty who will be glad to reload for us," Eleanor said promptly, then looked at Teach. "I believe you only have a little over two hundred men  _all told_ , is that not correct?" She gave Teach a cold smile. "Well, after the loss of the  _Dawn_ and the  _Lyle_. And the  _Runswift_ , of course. I just spoke to Morgan this morning and he's done with you, too. You really shouldn't have shorted him his share of your last run after he tracked the ship for you  _and_ led you to her."

Teach was shaking with anger by then, but Robards, Gale, and Fitch just looked worried. Robards looked at Fitch and Gale, then back at Teach as he reached out to touch Teach's arm and murmured, "Let them have Nassau, Captain."

Robards spoke quietly, but the words seemed very loud in the quiet room.

Teach turned to glare at Robards, incensed that his own right hand man wasn't supporting him. Robards often tried to talk him down in private, yes, but he had never made the mistake of doing it in  _public_  before. "What the fuck did you just say to me, Robards?"

Robards swallowed hard, obviously afraid of Teach's anger, but then he said quietly, "It's not worth the fight, Captain. We could win against Flint and Vane easy enough, even with the Guthrie men helping them, but we would lose men and where would that leave us? By the time we fight our way back to shore Hornigold will have sunk our ships, and then even if we  _could_ pry him and  _two hundred men_ out of the fort, we'd still be stuck here for weeks or  _months_ on short rations, getting any of the ships seaworthy again. You  _know_  Hornigold, sir. He'd sink everything in the harbor to keep us from having them."

"He's right," Gale agreed quietly, "and we have to make our next sales elsewhere anyway. Scott's never going to give us a decent profit here again." He gave Teach a dirty look. "Not since you decided to threaten to take his charge's holdings because you wanted a _five percent_ boost on your profit."

Teach glared at Gale and Robards for a few moments longer, hating them both for being _right_ , and then turned back towards Flint, trying to ignore how confident Vane and Eleanor looked. They knew he was beaten just as well as he did, he was sure, and that made him so angry he couldn't stop himself from threatening Flint. "One day when you least expect it, Flint, you'll round some island and find my ship waiting to blow you out of the water."

Flint snorted, giving Teach a disdainful look. "It's against the code for pirates to hunt pirates, Teach. Or have you forgotten? Even _your_ crew would balk at that, I think. If pirate turns on pirate and we begin warring on each other out on the open seas, our entire way of life becomes very precarious indeed."

"Fuck the bloody code!" Teach exclaimed angrily. "You have stuck your nose into my business one time too many, Flint. One day I will see you _dead_ or die trying, I swear it on my  _soul_."

"Swear it on anything you like," Flint replied, no longer truly worried. If Teach's top men weren't willing to stand and fight for Nassau, there wouldn't be a fight. Teach had never been willing to stand alone, no matter what he said, and his crew would mutiny at the prospect of the _Revenge_ trying to take on the _Walrus_ and the _Ranger_ at once, even without the fort getting involved. It would be suicide. "That won't make it any more likely to happen."

"I can still challenge you to a duel," Teach said angrily, practically shaking with anger. He had never hated anyone the way he hated Flint, but he hated even more that he couldn't see a clear path to killing the man. "Out front, right now. Pistols, then swords."

Flint laughed. "You could try, but you'd lose any respect your men have left for you. Look at them."

Teach glared at Flint a moment longer and then looked at his men, and the expressions on their faces made him growl. Robards looked like he might faint, he was so pale and worried, and Fitch looked like he had seen a nightmare come to life. Gale was obviously disgusted, but the look in his eyes held no fear, only disdain that made Teach realize he was very close to losing the first Captain that had sworn allegiance to him. He looked back at Flint, just breathing hard for a few moments before he grated out angrily, "I should have shot you the night you bought Vane captaincy of the _Ranger_."

"I didn't _buy_ him anything," Flint replied, "but you would have never left that room alive, just like you won't leave this one if you so much as _think_ about reaching for a weapon. Nassau is _ours_ now, Teach. You've spent years throwing your weight around, pushing people over and over until the day finally came -- as I warned you it would! -- that we have all had enough. Your day here is done. Pack up your tents and move on."

" _Everyone_ will know you're fucking him after this, Flint," Teach said angrily. He didn't even consider before he said it, but once he had, he knew it was the only thing he really _could_ do to Flint and Vane, which made him even angrier. He had overestimated his control of Nassau and would have to pay the price, that was obvious, but perhaps he could at least ruin _Flint's_ control too on his way out. "I'll make certain of it."

"So tell them," Flint replied, ruthlessly quashing the worry he felt at the idea. "It won't change anything, just as it didn't when the word went out about you."

"They don't like you as much as they respect me," Teach said quickly. "They'll _believe it_ about you. Everyone knows you've been backing the boy for years, fighting his battles for him."

Flint laughed at the very idea Charles would ever let him do his fighting for him. "Which would be why so many of your 'loyal' crews have walked away, I suppose? They respect you so much they sought to distance themselves from you as far as possible. I heard the _Persephone_ has given up sailing on the account completely, sailing the North Atlantic run out of _Boston_ just to avoid you!"

"They didn't join _you_ , though," Teach countered, seething. The _Persephone_ had been his largest ship other than the _Revenge_ and it still angered him to hear her mentioned. He had thought Rondquist would back him to the very gates of Hell until he was given a _letter_ in Port Royal just a few weeks ago saying that Rondquist was done. " _No one_ wants to stand beside you."

"I stand beside him," Charles pointed out. "Hornigold and his men stand with us. Eleanor does as well." He snorted, adding, "And many of the independents would stand with us if we asked the right way, depending on who it was we had to fight. _We_ don't have more enemies than friends."

"And I myself have always preferred _quality_ over _quantity_ when it comes to allies," Flint added. "I don't want a fleet of ships at my beck and call, wouldn't _accept one_ if it were offered to me. I have my ship and a few close allies I can rely upon, and that should be enough for any man."

" _Your_ downfall is that you want _all_ the ships to be yours," Charles went on. "Having your own ship was never enough for you, you wanted a fleet, and then even the fleet wasn't enough. You wanted to lord it over us all like a bloody king." He snorted. "You seem to have forgotten most of us are pirates because we refuse to live under anyone's rule but our own. We don't want or need to be part of an armada, we simply want the freedom to sail our own ship where we please. I would choose leading my one _loyal_ crew over everyone who has ever sailed with you, Teach. Especially you."

Teach stared into Vane's eyes for a few moments in silence, fighting for some response despite the fact it was all true. He didn't really have one so he fell back on his old standby when dealing with the boy. "It's easy to talk big, boy, but one day you will need my aid and I won't be there."

"I don't need or want your 'aid'," Charles scoffed. "I know your price to help _me_ and I'd rather _die_." He paused slightly and then added, "You're really _horrible_ at fucking, in case you weren't aware." Flint let out a quiet little snort of a laugh he couldn't quite keep back and Charles looked at him. "I know, but if we're telling truths today, I doubt anyone _else_ ever had the guts to tell him."

Flint grinned, green eyes sparkling with laughter. "I doubt it too."

"You'll pay for this, boy," Teach promised, hard and cold as he tried to ignore the way he could feel his face heating up. Vane _wasn't_ the first to say such a thing to him, but it was certainly the first time it had been said with _witnesses_. "Your crew will turn their backs on you when they know what you are and you'll end up in _chains_ again, mark my words."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," Bonny said sharply, making Teach look at him in surprise. The boy was just a little slip of a thing, skinny and sullen enough Teach had never given him a second glance, and to see the little shit glaring at him so openly was a shock. "We don't bloody _care_ , y' daft bastard." Teach scowled, drawing himself up angrily, but before he could say anything the boy went on. "Ever' one knows you're just pissed he got tired o' your shite an' walked away b'fore y' was done with him. We all _know_ what y' did to him, knew it before we elected him, an' it don't mean nothin'! We all got shite in our pasts. Ain't _nothin'_ you could say gonna change the fact he's the best Cap'n _we_ ever had."

"The best I've sailed with in many years," Quinn added, making them all look towards the kitchen in surprise. Quinn was standing in the kitchen doorway with Rackham right behind him, and he walked into the tavern with Rackham at his heels as he added, "No lies you could tell will change that, Teach."

"What about _truths_ , though?" Teach asked sharply, surprised that Quinn was there. He had known Quinn for years and could hardly believe that one of the most well-respected Quartermasters sailing on the account thought _Vane_ was such a good Captain. "Lies he told _you_ , such as where he got that money he used to buy his way onto your ship?"

Quinn stopped next to Charles while Rackham moved to join Bonny behind them. "He borrowed it from Captain Flint, of course, at my request." Teach stared, shocked that Quinn knew, and Quinn added dryly, "I was the one who suggested that the money should come from Charles' hands. Flint just did as I asked."

"Why would he do that?" Teach asked, frowning. "Because of his _feelings_ for the boy?"

"Or because of his feelings for _me_ ," Quinn said pointedly, giving Teach a level look. "I've known James Flint most of his life, he's like a son to me. I was his first Quartermaster when he was just a boy with a new-found love of the sea. I saw to it that he got most of his training as a sailor from the best men on my crew." He looked at Flint, smiling. "And I did a _spectacular_ job, if I do say so myself. He is one of the best Captains I have known, and unlike some I could name he does not forget even those loyalties most would think he should have outgrown long ago." He looked at Charles then, meeting his gaze as he added, "And Charles most certainly shares that love of the sea and sailing and a deep loyalty to those who treat him fairly and prove themselves worthy of it." He looked at Teach again, adding, "But loyalty is most assuredly _not_ a trait that you possess, as your unfortunate crews have discovered over and over. That is why they leave your fleet. It has nothing to do with _anyone_ but you, Teach."

"What about the fact your Captain is Flint's catamite?" Teach asked scathingly.

"Catamite?" Quinn repeated, then laughed. "Really, can you come up with no better lies?"

"It's not a lie! _That's_ why the boy left my crew for him, why Flint gave him all that gold!" Teach said quickly, angry. "They admitted as much to me the night you made him Captain, and again before you got here!"

Quinn snorted softly, his amusement fading into a level look. "The relationship I have witnessed between them is nothing like that, Teach. They respect each other far too much to be anything but equals. _You_ are the one with a history of taking advantage of boys who trust themselves into your care."

"That's a lie that _he_ started," Teach growled.

"No, he did not," Quinn said firmly, meeting Teach's gaze without fear. "I heard exactly what kind of man you are from _Timothy Brody_ , nearly ten years ago. He told me what you'd done to him when he came to me in Tortuga one night to beg a place on the _Ranger's_ crew right after he got away from you. He was thirteen when you took him on and made him your cabin boy, and spent several months at your mercies before he went over the side one night and swam for shore." He looked past Teach at Robards then, adding, "And I am very sure your right-hand man knew all about it. Timothy had recently taken a beating from him for trying to run while you were ashore."

Robards flushed slightly and looked away, which was answer enough as Flint muttered, "Worthless bastard."

Robards glared at Flint and flushed darker, but he still didn't speak. There was really no defense for what he'd done on Teach's behalf and he knew it. He wouldn't have beaten Brody if not for the boy's smart mouth, but he had kept others from leaving.

Quinn glanced at Flint. "Mm, yes, I must agree." He looked at Fitch and then at Gale, adding, "I would wager your two senior Captains know as well."

Fitch looked a bit disgusted, but he didn't argue as Gale said quietly, "I didn't know he kept the boys against their will, but we all know what he does with his cabin boys. Word about that got out years ago, but Teach ain't the only man that's none too picky when there's no land in sight."

"Oh, but he _is_ picky," Charles said sharply, making Gale look at him. "He likes 'em young, especially boys. Most quietly disappeared when he found someone new, but he kept me around long enough I let myself believe he might really give a damn about me. When I realized I was just lying to myself, I found myself a way out. He always told me I would end up a slave again if I dared to leave him and I believed it for a long time, but it didn't happen. He tried to tell me I was too young and stupid to even _survive_ without him, but that was a lie too and now he hates me for proving him wrong."

Gale met Charles' gaze for a long moment before he admitted, "He wanted to hunt your ship down after you left, but even those who didn't like you refused. You had never made a secret of the fact you intended to leave."

"Doesn't surprise me," Charles said, looking back at Teach. "I spent the last six months expecting to see the _Revenge's_ sails appear in some lonely place, lying in ambush."

"If he had, I would have hunted _him_ down," Flint said firmly, making Charles look at him. "Even if I had to seek the aid of the Royal Navy to see it done, I would have watched him die for it."

"I know," Charles agreed with a smile. "Just as I would have gone after him if he murdered you."

"You see?" Teach said then, angry. "They don't even _try_ to hide it!"

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Oh, do shut up, Edward." Teach glared at him as Quinn added, "It's not so common in the West Indies now as it once was, but I know I am not the only one here old enough to remember Avery's _matelotage_." He looked at Gale and Fitch. "Am I?"

"No, you're not," Gale agreed. "A lot of the older crews on the account remember, even have a few _matelots_ among them yet. There's two men on my own crew who've been together for most of thirty years." He looked past Teach at Charles and Flint for a moment, then met Flint's gaze as he asked, "So it's true?"

"I hesitate to agree when I'm not familiar with that term," Flint said, fighting to hide his shock. He'd never heard even a _hint_ that such a thing might be accepted among pirates. He had, on the contrary gotten the strong impression that such a thing becoming publicly known could get him killed.

" _Matelotage_ is French, Captain," Quinn said, giving Flint a wry smile. "It's not even _spoken of_ among the Royal Navy where any hint of sodomy will get you the lash at the very least, so it's not a word you would have learned in your French lessons with Carver on the _Dionysus,_ but pirates, well…" He smiled wider. "As you know, we rather _like_ to break the Royal Navy's rules."

Flint chuckled despite his shock. "You still haven't explained what it is, sir."

"To put it in simplest terms, _matelotage_ is an old sailor's term for two men who've decided to spend their lives together and share all things equally between them," Quinn replied, not at all surprised by the shock in Flint's eyes even though he could tell Flint was trying hard to hide it. "It was quite common among pirates once, especially the French, but these days with so many English sailors on the account, it has fallen out of favor. I'm quite certain many among your own crew have sailed with men who were _matelots_ , son, though given your past I'm not surprised you never spoke of such things to find that out. Many older pirates sailed with Avery at one point or knew men who did, and it was common knowledge that Stefano was not just his bookkeeper. I know that Gates sailed with them at one point, as did De Groot and Randall."

"Gates has said the men could forgive me almost anything, but I didn't dare bring it up," Flint said quietly. "I expected the same reaction as I had seen in England."

"I doubt you'd get it among your crew," Quinn said firmly, wishing he had known what Flint was going through. He would have encouraged him to talk to Gates about it years ago. "You've got more older crewmen than we do aboard the _Ranger_ , son, men who remember Avery well. They'll have seen enough to know who warms your bed has nothing to do with how talented you are as a Captain."

"Which is why I've said before I think they should be told," Joji said firmly, making them all remember he was there, still standing behind the bar. He met Flint's gaze, adding, "The time for hiding is done with, James. They _will_ stand with you, I'm sure of it."

"Aye," Dooley agreed from his spot near the back door. "At least you ain't like Teach, fuckin' little boys. Ain't nobody gonna doubt Vane could say no if he wanted."

"We'll stand with you, Captain," Joshua said firmly, drawing attention to where he was crouched on the stairs leading up to the second floor. Flint twisted in his chair to look at Joshua, who added, "Nothing I heard here today changes why we elected you. I never heard anyone bring up who you might be fucking as having any bearing on it."

"That's cause don't none of 'em care," Dooley agreed, then snickered and added, "Long as he ain't the one fuckin' Nana."

"I'm losing patience with that though, for a fact," Joshua said pointedly, shifting on the stairs to look at Dooley. "It's getting so I have to keep a guard on her if we've been at sea more than a week."

Flint wrinkled his nose, disgusted by the very idea. "I am willing to swear by whatever you like that I haven't even _considered_ fucking the ship's goat. Ever."

"Not even when you'd been over a year celibate?" Charles asked, grinning at Flint's expression. He'd never seen him look so completely disgusted.

"Not even when I'd been celibate for _two_ years," Flint agreed instantly. "That's just _wrong_." He turned his head to look at Joshua again, adding, "And if you ever figure out who's been after her, I want him _flogged_."

Joshua grinned, flashing his nightmare fangs. "Can I whip him myself, Captain?"

"If you like," Flint agreed quickly. "Just do it in front of the whole crew and make sure _everyone_ knows why so it may _stop_ when we throw him off my ship after." He looked back towards the table, reaching for the bottle of rum as he muttered, "Molesting our goat. Ought to _hang_ him."

"By his balls," Eleanor added a bit sharply, frowning.

Flint let out a snort of a laugh and nod as he filled his mug. "For a fact."

"I'm still gonna make sure _everyone_ knows," Teach said suddenly, drawing attention back to him.

Flint snorted, giving Teach a level look. "The cat is already well out of the bag, Teach, in case you hadn't noticed, but by all means, enjoy yourself. Put it in the bloody _papers_ if you want."

"Most pirates can't read anyway," Joshua added with a laugh.

"And those that can won't care as long as the Captain keeps finding us rich prizes," Dooley added, grinning. "We get paid better than any crew out there, 'cept maybe the _Ranger_."

"So go fuck yourself," Charles finished, smirking at Teach and pleased that Dooley had heard his crew was so prosperous. "With a rusty sword."

"Oww," Dooley said, laughing. "I get the feeling he don't like you much, Teach."

"Or at all," Joji said dryly, amused.

"None of us do," Eleanor agreed, "which is why you and your men are getting off our island, Teach." Teach glared at her and she smirked, her eyes cold and hard. "If your ships are still in the harbor an hour before sunset, Hornigold's men will sink them all, and he already has orders to sink you without warning if you return here, along with any ships known to be loyal to you."

Gale and Fitch exchanged a look and then Gale said quietly, "We're leaving." He turned to head for the door without waiting for Fitch or Teach. " _My_ ship will be out of the harbor on the next tide, Miss Guthrie."

"Very good, Captain Gale," Eleanor replied. "If you leave his service, simply fly the white coming into harbor and you'll be allowed to come ashore to discuss future dealings."

Gale paused at the door, looking back. "I'm a man of my word, Miss Guthrie, and I swore to follow him. You'll not see me again." He left without waiting for a reply.

Fitch hesitated and then said quietly, "Same goes for me and my crew." He turned away and hurried outside.

Teach watched Fitch go and then looked at Flint, seething with anger even though he was glad Gale and Fitch would stand with him. "Pray we never meet again." He turned away and headed for the door.

"Pray _you_ leave him be," Charles said sharply. "I remember quite a few English ships you've taken in enough detail to get the Royal Navy to hunt you down for me, and I know _all_ your hiding places. I won't need your books of logs and maps to find them again, either."

Teach stopped for a moment, hands flexing at his sides, then continued out of the tavern.

Flint reached out to offer his rum to Charles, who gladly accepted it, taking a deep drink before he passed it back, looking around. "So, what's next?"

"A talk with our crews, it seems," Flint said quietly. "For me, at least."

Quinn reached out to pat Flint's shoulder. "I'll tell Gates to join you for dinner when next I come across him, son. You two need to have a long talk." He started towards the front door of the tavern, adding, "Rackham, Bonny, stay here with the Captain. If he argues with you, just ignore him."

"Of course, sir," Rackham agreed instantly.

Charles snorted, amused. "Such a wonderful, _obedient_ crew."

"You wish," Bonny said with a quiet snicker.

"Sometimes, yes," Charles agreed dryly.

Joshua laughed and stood, moving down the stairs as he asked, "You want me and Dooley to stay, Captain?"

"I'd rather have you make sure someone is watching to be sure they're really packing up to go," Flint replied, smiling gratefully at Joshua. "I expect half the crew will head back to Noonan's, but I'd appreciate some of you on watch, at least."

"Then that's what we'll do," Joshua agreed, heading for the front door. "I'll set up a rotation and send Billy with any news. He's faster than the rest of us."

"Except Paxton, but he only runs if he's bein' chased," Dooley added, moving to follow Joshua. "And I want on first shift with the whores, I had the watch on our tents already."

"I'll be fair about it," Joshua agreed, nodding as he walked outside with Dooley right behind him.

Charles looked at Flint, suddenly smirking. "Teach _did_ say he was telling the whole town."

Flint's lips twitched in amusement. He had absolutely no doubt where Charles was heading with that idea. "I heard him too, yes."

"Then there's no reason for me to behave myself anymore," Charles pointed out, still smirking.

Flint smiled wider. "Actually there's not, now that you mention it."

Charles reached for Flint's rum, his smirk widening into a pleased smug grin. "Nicest thing he ever did for me."

Flint just laughed and watched Charles drain his mug of rum, again.

Bonny snickered and swatted the back of Charles' head lightly, muttering, "Stupid fucker."

"I used to," Charles agreed, still grinning.

Joji laughed and shook his head. "Don't start any wars while I'm not watching you, Captain. I'll be down on the beach."

"If I do, I'll send Jean to let you know," Flint responded instantly, amused.

"Send Bonny," Joji corrected, turning around towards the kitchen. "I'm taking Jean with me, he's always asking to help stand watch."

"You're a good father to him," Flint said, pleased Joji would get to spend some time with the boy.

"Best he's had," Joji agreed, stopping Giselle just inside the kitchen doorway to kiss her thoroughly, then continuing towards the kitchen's back door as if nothing happened.

"By far," Giselle agreed as she watched Joji go, beaming, then turned and walked to the bar. She grabbed another bottle of rum out from under the bar and two more mugs before she walked around the bar towards Flint's table, still smiling. "Would you still like some biscuits and jam, or should I make something more substantial?"

Charles grinned at her, putting Flint's mug back on the table as he stood. "I'll be fine until supper. Could I request a steak and that jam to go along with whatever rolls and vegetation he's asked for?"

Giselle laughed, setting the mugs and rum on the table. "Of course you can, _cher_."

"You truly are the loveliest woman I know," Charles said cheerfully, moving to kiss her cheek soundly before he headed for the stairs to the second floor. "And now _I_ am going to go get naked and fall into your bed, Jamie. Come join me."

Flint blushed hotly even as he stood up to follow. He knew he should never have let Charles call him that. "I swear to God, if you call me that in public ever again I will make you regret it."

Charles laughed and paused on the stairs, smirking at Flint. "You might try, but we both know I can kick your arse if you make me."

Flint just snorted, still blushing very red as he started up the stairs after Charles, who was already moving again. He didn't argue for the simple reason it was true. Besides the fact he would never hurt Charles on purpose, even annoyed at him, Charles was also the faster of them by far, and he fought dirty.

The others watched them go, most in varying states of shock, and after they were out of sight Giselle laughed softly when she finally noticed their faces. "If they no longer need to hide, you'd all best get used to that sort of thing, at least when they haven't seen each other in weeks."

Rackham moved to sit in the chair that Flint had abandoned, bemused and still surprised. "Well, at least they seem to be _happy_ with their arrangement."

"They are, very much so," Giselle agreed, smiling warmly at him. "And they will only become even happier now that Charles no longer has to pretend he would rather visit Noonan's girls than spend his time with Flint."

Bonny moved to sit next to Rackham in what had been Charles' chair, murmuring quietly, "There's only the one way up, right?"

"Unless they scale the walls like Charles does when he's not wanting seen, yes," Giselle agreed, smiling. "No need to fear that, though, child. Joji already set men on watch to be sure no one tries to sneak in that way. They are quite safe."

Bonny smiled slightly. "Good." He settled into a comfortable sprawl in his chair, folding his arms across his belly and letting his chin tip forward so his hat covered his face. "Wake me when you get tired, Jack."

"I promise," Rackham agreed, giving Bonny a fond look and then smiling charmingly at Eleanor as he offered her his hand. "I don't believe we have been introduced as yet, Miss Guthrie. Jack Rackham, at your service."

Eleanor laughed softly and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Jack. Do call me Eleanor."

"Eleanor, then," Rackham agreed easily, pleased.

Giselle smiled and turned to walk back to the kitchen, leaving them to talk. She had bread to make and then would need to start working on dinner.

Flint and Charles would be starved when they came back down.

  


~End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Matelotage_ is an actual thing that was common in the West Indes at different times, though it fell out of favor at other times and was seldom seen in British parts of the Caribbean, which is why Flint knew nothing about it.
> 
> And I had finished this before I posted the second part. I spent the last two days poking and prodding at it trying to decide if it's done or not, and I finally decided this part is, just not the story. I still feel they have more to say, but I can't promise it'll be soon when they decide to share it with me. lol


End file.
